


voiceless

by poor_sickies



Series: Bad Things Happen [6]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Gen, Injury, Torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-22
Updated: 2018-11-22
Packaged: 2019-08-27 15:21:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,526
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16705006
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/poor_sickies/pseuds/poor_sickies
Summary: The Galra aren't the only ones who use torture to get what they want.Prompt: lost their voice from screaming





	voiceless

Shiro is going crazy. 

He paces back and forth in the small, dark cell they’re keeping them in, clenching his fist.

He had slammed it against the wall half an hour ago. The flesh was torn, bloody and bruised. He had hoped the pain would distract him from the screams right next door, but no such luck.

Another distant howl pierces through his ears, making his chest ache and everyone else wince, the thick metal walls reverberating with the sound.

He can’t stop himself from trying to figure out what they’re doing to Keith.

Shiro has seen and felt many forms of torture, in the year he had been captive. Truly vicious, scarring things, that he only recalled bits and pieces from. He had learned to know what to expect from each transgression, and to distinguish what was happening to the other prisoners. A scream from a whip wound was different than one from a hot iron on skin. The Galra aren’t too creative with their torture.

But then again, this isn’t the Galra they’re dealing with.

They had just stopped on a grass planet, for a couple of days of rest and supply gathering. Running low on food, apparently this place had a wide range of flora that could be useful for eating or medicine, and their scanners didn’t pick up any threatening wildlife. 

So they stopped, parking their lions on a clearing.

The area around was green and dense, with tall grass sprouting from the ground, making it hard to understand their surroundings.

So when they’re captured, it all happens to fast for them to understand. 

This alien race that had imprisoned them, they’re fast and unforgiving. Lance had tried to fight back when they had pulled some kind of cloth over their head, and is now sporting a bruised bump on his forehead. 

After trying to fight, they’d tried to reason with them. 

“We are the paladins of Voltron! We mean you no harm! What do you want from us?!”

“The paladins of Voltron died three years ago. Who are you, and how did you get your hands on those lions?”

One way or another, they wanted answers, and one way or another, they were going to get them. 

One of the big ones picks up Keith and throws him over one shoulder. He tries to fight it, but his hands tied behind his back, it’s impossible. Shiro tries to stop him, but he’s thrown against the wall, and when he opens his eyes again, his vision is swimming and Keith is gone.

That had been two hours ago. 

Their only hope is Krolia and Coran, who had stayed at the lions to figure out their mapping. Sooner or later they are going to realize something was wrong. 

He hopes Keith can hold on until then. 

Hunk and Pidge had checked every last centimeter of this cell, looking for a breach, a hole, something, anything that could help them escape. They’d started when Keith was here, but looked faster and more frantically after he was taken. No success. 

Lance was dizzy and angry. The bruise on his forehead was darkening and swelling, and the headache was only made worse by the bright lights along the walls, shining in the dark room. These people may hate the Galra, but they sure did take their advice in decoration. 

Allura was sitting next to Lance, frowning, staring at the floor with a concentrated posture, trying to figure out something that could help them. The alchemy she had learnt at Oriande had taken them out of dreadful situations, but this time it seemed to be of no help. 

Another scream.

Keith’s pain tolerance is incredible, and everyone in the team knows that, especially Shiro. He was the kind to push through broken bones and stab wounds. Which was probably why it had taken a while until they could hear him more clearly. But that was half an hour ago. Now the screams are long and agonizing, Keith’s voice breaking off and dragging. 

Shiro doesn’t know what they’re doing to him, but he knows what he wants to do to them.

*

There’s a metallic sound from the other side of the door.

The door busts open.

“Keith!”

Krolia looks around frantically, eyes usually sharp and determined with a hint of fear. 

“I kept hearing him,  _where is he_?”

“Should be next door, we can hear him very well from here…or we could…” Shiro says. Looking around, he sees two of the guards down by the door. Krolia had taken care of them.

Keith had stopped screaming ten minutes ago. Shiro doesn’t know if he should be scared of relieved. 

Coran appears behind her, and rushes to Allura’s side, undoing her handcuffs, and then Lance’s.

Shiro looks back at Krolia, who seems to be weighing her options. 

Then, she readies her gun again, and shoots at the wall.

It doesn’t do much damage at first, but she keeps shooting, her teeth clenched in anger, until the metal panel is burnt and darkened. 

And then she kicks it. 

Again, and again, and again, and Shiro can’t help but wonder how her foot isn’t broken yet.

Then the wall crumbles off completely. 

It’s all too fast for Shiro to process. One moment, he’s lunging himself at the alien who took Keith, the other there’s a dead body in his arms. Black appears, and Krolia has Keith in her arms, and he looks like he’s been through hell - they need to get to him now. 

The Lions go back to space quick enough. Blue, Green and Red are on autopilot, Pidge, Hunk and Allura tending to Lance on Yellow, despite his protests that he’s fine and they really should get to Keith, and then Shiro, Coran, Krolia and Keith cramped up in Black, trying to figure out just how bad of a state Keith was in. 

Keith had lost consciousness when Krolia picked him up, and only wakes when Coran is laying him on his bed in Black. 

He’s half naked, black under suit hanging off his ankles. The damage isn’t obvious, and Shiro is able to relax a little for five minutes. But then Keith wakes and whimpers, rough and broken, and pretty much  _voiceless_. 

Coran turns him over gently.

His back is unrecognizable.

There are dozens of red angry welts crisscrossing over each other, most of them bleeding and open, the others swelling and bruising. 

Krolia looks angrier.

Then he notices how awkwardly Keith is laying his arms. He takes his left wrist in his hand and rotates slowly. 

And sure enough, on the soft skin in the underside of Keith’s upper arm, there is a rectangular shape burn. 

Coran’s face falls. “Oh no,” he hisses.

“What is this? Is he gonna be okay?”

“It’s not life threatening. Just a burn,” he explains, “But I recognize the method. It’s a form of torture used in ancient times. It’s a laser device that just destroys a couple layers of skin. It’s very painful.”

That explains Keith’s cries they kept hearing for hours. 

Keith winces when one of Shiro’s fingers brush over the rectangular mark. It’s red and angry, and radiates heat. Upon more inspection, they find three more, on the other arm and in the insides of his thighs. The aliens had picked the most sensitive places to do it, and Shiro feels ready to slaughter the captors again.

Keith keeps squirming slowly in the bed, exhausted. He doesn’t speak, and his hands are kept close to his neck.

Coran and Krolia disinfect the burns and bandage them, making Keith roll side to side in pain. The lashes on his back are tended to as well. Shiro keeps holding his hand, and doesn’t complain when Keith’s nails dig into his palm.

“Are you hurt anywhere else?” He asks, looking into Keith’s eyes.

Keith shakes his head, but points to his throat. Shiro tilts his head to the side, confused.

“H…-”

The small sliver of voice coming out of him stops abruptly. By the pronunciation, Shiro could make out “hurts”, but he hasn’t noticed before how much Keith’s vocal chords had been affected.

“Damn… does your throat hurt?”

Keith gives a small nod, eyes barely open. With his head buried in his arms, he will be falling asleep any minute now.

“I’ll see what else we have in the med kit,” Coran says, before turning away to rummage through the box.

“He’s barely awake anymore,” Krolia points out, still running her fingers through his hair softly, “his body is shutting down now. He’s exhausted.”

Shiro nods.

“Sleep a little,” he tells Keith, leaning closer to pat his shoulder gently, before covering him with a blanket.

“I’ll be here when you wake up,” Krolia assures, taking a seat beside the bed. She doesn’t leave for a while.

*

The others have returned to their lions, except Hunk, who had decided to stay with Lance.

Lance asks for Keith immediately after waking up. His forehead still hurts, and he does feel a bit dizzy, but he knows whatever he’s feeling, Keith is probably doing ten times worse.

He feels moody and irritated. Sometimes it’s so easy to forget how fragile they all are. Today had truly been a proof of how powerless he could feel.

Hunk tells him Keith is pretty beaten up, and as always, Lance is glad for Hunk’s honesty.

“Have you seen him?” Lance asks, propped up on his elbows, glass of water in his hand.

“Nah, but Krolia’s staying with him,” Hunk says, “we’re in our way to a small planet, so we can kinda stop and rest.”

Lance snorts bitterly.

“Yeah, and hopefully not be kidnapped by hostile aliens on the way.”

“Hopefully,” Hunk chuckles.

But Lance isn’t joking.

This is  _killing_ him.

Hunk sighs, leaning forward, and places both hands on lances shoulders. “Hey, he’s gonna be fine, you know? It’s Keith, he’s tough as nails.”

Lance closes his eyes. “I know, I just… I can’t help but wonder if I had been able to do something…if things would have turned out like this.”

“There was nothing you could have done, Lance,” hunk shakes his head, “we all did our best, and things still went wrong. It’s not your fault, and that’s not on any of us. It really sucks, but sometimes that’s just how it is I guess.”

“That doesn’t make me feel better,” Lance sighs, fidgeting with the sheets in his fingers.

Hunk shrugs in apology, and moves closer to hug his friend. He pulls Lance in slowly, and Lance lets go, burying his head in hunk’s chest.

“Could you… could you stay a little?” Lance mumbles against Hunk’s under suit. “I really don’t wanna be alone right now.”

Hunk nods immediately, and rubs lances back. “Of course.”

*

When Keith wakes up, the dim lights make him contract and tighten his grip on the sheets.

And then he has to release, because, god, it’s too much.

They had laid him on his stomach, because of the wounds on his back, but no position could have prevented the intense pains in his muscles everywhere. His shoulders and jaw especially, from when he had been burnt, trying to keep himself together and not give the aliens the satisfaction of seeing him cry. It had only worked for a short while though.

The burns ache as well, but Coran’s ointment is probably helping a lot, seeing as they felt a lot better than before.

But his throat still hurts.

He had noticed before how his vocal chords wouldn’t give, when Shiro was assessing wounds on his back and he had tried to call for him, but from the way it feels, Keith is almost sure his voice is still gone.

He closes his eyes again. His body feels drained of energy, every little movement hurts and saps out his strength. His throat feels raw and swollen, a deep ache radiating from the back.

Despite it all, he had managed a dreamless sleep, fortunately, because whatever dreams he would have after that ordeal would not be good.

It’s nighttime on their earth clock, a blurry 3:46 am Keith struggles to see on the end of the bed.

For a moment, Keith wishes it wasn’t so early. He’s not scared, but company would really help him feel safe enough to go back to sleep.

The door opens quietly. It’s Krolia, going in with gentle steps, and closing the door behind her. She’s only wearing her skin tight under suit, her usual sleeping attire, and holding a mug in her hands.

“M…-”

Keith forgets about his throat momentarily, his words only perceptible through lip reading, sound cutting off.

But Krolia notices it immediately.

“Keith!”

The mug trembles in her hands when she’s startled, but she sets it aside quickly and rushes to Keith’s bed.

“How do you feel?” She asks, her long fingers carding through his hair. “Are you in pain?”

He nods this time, facing the current uselessness of his voice.

“The burns?” Krolia asks. Keith points to his neck.

“Throat? Still sore?”

He nods.

“Anything else bothering you? We still have some painkillers-”

Keith shakes his head.

“No painkillers?” Krolia asks, confused. “Why not?”

Keith shakes his head again, slower this time.

The painkillers they carry on the lions are good, but, as he had come to learn, they make him feel dizzy and disoriented. If this is a side effect due to him being Galra, or just because those meds are made for Alteans, he’s not sure. But right now, he really can’t handle feeling more out of it than he already is. Even if that means being in bed, unable to move.

Krolia doesn’t seem to understand why, but she’s not about to force him when he’s so visibly opposed to it.

“What can I do then? Some warm tea would help-”

Keith grimaces, fingers rubbing a spot near his Adam’s apple.

“I know it hurts to swallow, but Coran said there’s a yea with healing properties that would help a lot. And you’ll wait until it’s lukewarm so it doesn’t hurt as much. Okay?”

Keith closes his eyes and nods.

“I’ll be right back,” Krolia promises, squeezing his hand before leaving.

He sighs, and sinks his head in his arms again. He can feel a headache forming, as if yelling that much earlier had snapped something inside his brain. It could also be from his sore jaw muscles, but despite the terrible torture they had performed in his skin and back, his throat is definitely what is bothering him the most.

He rolls over to his side when Krolia gets back, slowly and carefully. It hurts to brush the insides of his arms and thighs, where the skin was burned, against his body, so his position is strained and awkward, but Krolia helps him sit up.

“Here,” she hands him the mug, extending her hand to the back of his head to stroke his hair. Krolia is surprisingly motherly when she wants to be, and even after two years, Keith isn’t used to it. It feels nice nonetheless.

He doesn’t sleep too badly that night.


End file.
